Parthinia Orlovsky
Description Parthinia is of medium height, with the finely toned musculature of an athlete. While she is obviously very strong, his lean frame helps hides his real capabilities. Her hair is jet black, left long in the flowing style favored by many nobility. She has a slightly angular face, with high cheekbones and a strong jaw, which coupled with his almond shaped eyes . Her eyes are a deep grey and seem to sparkle with mischief. Parthinia has a presence that cannot be denied. She is always impeccably groomed and has a friendly, teasing smile on her thin face. She walks with a sprightly step and an easy grace. Despite her status as a knight, she likes to dress simply, in grey tunics, white shirts and black pantaloons. she favors well crafted boots and elegant leather belts. These, alongside a small obsidian brooch depicting a shield, are her only vanity. If someone was to see her without his shirt, he would notice in his arms a series of tattoos depicting the symbols the Good Gods. Her armor and arms are unadorned in the same way. she always keeps his equipment in pristine condition, and she does it by himself, but they only impression they give is of capability and ease of use. Personality Cheerful, happy go lucky, seems to take everything lightheartedly. Charming, roguish, people's person. Always up for a challenge. Theatrical. Will joke in the middle of battle. When he gets serious, he gets deadly serious. Pride, determination, bravery, strength, travel. Does what must be done. Flexible, practical. Likes his simple pleasures, a lot. Dislikes vermin and slime. Adores the theatre and music. Likes to sketch in her journal (‘memories’). Has a book where he keeps sayings from many religions as well as from his mentor. It is also like a diary, with drawings and small phrases. Parthinia thinks himself as human. he was raised as one and only found his heritage by mistake. he had noticed from an early age that he could see in the dark, when noone else could, but she had learned to hide it. On the one hand, she is proud of the fact that his ancestry is as honorous as can be. On the other, she really thinks of himself as human, and wants to make his mark on the world, the way his mentor did, by skill and devotion. Thus, she would be surprised and perhaps offended if someone suggested that she is something but human. Parthinia is still young. Underneath his roguish demeanor, she is still a young man out to prove himself. His time among the true nobles has stung her. she takes pleasure in emphasizing his difference, even as a paladin. she chose the greataxe as his weapon exactly because it is considered a vulgar weapon, and she cultivates a roguish disposition exactly because most paladins are pompous.She makes a point of his 'down-to-earth'-ness, to the point of appearing almost irreverent. She has yet to realize that this is another type of pride. History Parthinia is a paladin in whose veins runs the blood of angels. This is usually how stories of exalted families and generations of nobility start. This is not the case with her. Parthinia was born 25 years ago in Caldurf, one of the small towns of fishermen and rafters in the Vast, which mostly lived from the forest and the river. Parthinia's mother, Alisia, was a seamstress who had to raise Parthinia as best as she could. His father had died when he was only 2 and he was a boatmen, ferrying people up and down the river. Alisia was a great beauty and could have easily remarried, but she chose not to. Unfortunately, she herself died of scarlet fever when Parthinia was only 9. Thus, Parthinia never really knew her true parents. She was mostly raised by kind Barthas, a cleric of Tyr. He was a friend of the family and he took it upon himself to raise the orphaned Parthinia any way he could. All in all, he did a good job. The kind, jolly and absent minded priest had to content with a holy terror of a kid. Likeable and strong, and with a penchant for embarrassing observations and quick witted comments, Parthinia quickly became known across town as a likeable rogue whose charm was irresistible. Barthas had to spend a significant portion of his day trying to find in whose house Parthinia had been invited for supper or dinner. Even so, and despite his early and many losses, Parthinia grew up a good natured child. He helped around the temple and he tried to learn Barthas trade as best as he could. Secretly, both the priest and the boy hoped that he would follow the clergy, but alas, it was not meant to be. Parthinia had no head for theology and very little of the wisdom of father Barthas. What he had was charm and charisma, but that was not enough. The only time he showed any aptitude at all, was when Barthas showed her the arms and armor skills from his youth, when he was still a trainee in the Grand Temple. Parthinia took to weapons frighteningly quick, and Bartas quickly hid them. She was enough of a trouble as it was. But Parthinia had seen enough, and in his usual rounds, he always included some tours to the barracks, where bored guards showed him their rudimentary weapon skills. Parthinia grew up to be a very handsome young man. Barthas had now to face a horde of young lads making eyes at her in the sermons, when Parthinia helped him around the ceremony. Barthas ceremonies were attended more and more, by young men and stern fathers alike. Barthas did what he could, but Parthinia learned a whole new set of skills by the age of 15. And in any trouble he got in, he always found a way to negotiate his way out of it. But being a choir boy was not what the Gods had in mind for Deran. Almost a decade ago, a knight of Tyr passed through town. That in itself was not unusual. But the knight himself was. He was far older than usual, around his early fifties. At that age, most knights had settled down. But this specific man, called Tallarl, instead showed every sign of having spend a long time on the road. What was more, his equipment, his pose and the aura of power he exuded marked him as someone special, perhaps a paladin of high standing. But instead of demanding shelter from the Baron of the town, he instead asked sanctuary from Barthas, who was obliged to give him a room for the night. It just so happened that Parthinia had plans for the stable of the church that night. However, his date did not arrive and bored as she was, she took to grooming the paladin's horse. Amazingly, the big black mare left him. One thing led to another, and Parthinia had soon taken one of the many weapons on the knight's saddle and played at being a knight himself. It was then that he noticed a strange bundle in the knight's pack. His curiosity getting the better of her (or was it fate?), she took it out and saw one of the most beautiful swords he had ever seen. It seemed to hint of perfection itself, an otherworldly weapon of deadly charm. Under the strangely knowing eyes of the horse, Parthinia unsheathed it. This is when everything changed. The weapon immediately was sheathed in light. A terrible choir of hallowed voices started chanting inside Parthinia's head and no matter how she tried, the sword would not leave her hands. Terrified and numb she just stood there, tears in her eyes, as a bewildered Barthas arrived in his night shirt, a grim Sir Tallarl behind him, his sword in hand. The situation was indeed grim for Parthinia. Even good natured Barthas would not be able to save him this time, and Parthinia's charm would be no good against the powerful knight. What Parthinia did not know was that both the knight, the elderly priest and anyone of good heart in town had woken up simultaneously, the unearthly singing in their hands. And there Parthinia was, biting back tears and holding something definitely Not To Be Tampered With. But a strange thing happened. By all accounts, Sir Tallarl had the right to ask for Parthinia's punishment. Instead, he calmly took the sword from the boy, sheathed it and asked to see him first thing in the morning. Sir Tallarl was indeed a paladin, an experienced and respected one, who had been serving the Light for almost three decades. This was his final quest before he retired in his ancestral holdings in the south for good, He had gone searching for the weapon of archangel Palamius, which had last been seen deep in the borderlands. After many hardships, he was returning to the north to deliver it, a powerful artifact to be used in the never ending war. A strange feeling compelled him to seek shelter in a church. And now, by a stranger set of circumstances, here was a boy holding a sword meant for angels, when by all rights he shouldn't have been able to even see it, not hold it or activate it. Tallarl had been under the Light for too long to believe in coincidences. Something else was at work here. Could it be that his mission did not end with the sword? He meditated and prayed in the Church halls all night, seeking guidance. Deep in the Light's embrace, he saw the legacy of an angel get battered across time, his lineage lost under the weight of generations, the immortal spark and potential for good wasted again and again. He saw the Angels bow down in sorrow that their kin did not know their own worth. And he saw himself picking up the slender thread and making it as strong as steel.By the morning, all was clear. Tallarl had one more assignment. He had never taken a squire, but he realized that this had been hubris. In no uncertain terms, he informed the cleric Barthas that if he was willing, Parthinia would be coming with him, as a squire, under the normal expectations and obligations such a post entailed. Parthinia was thunderstruck. He had expected severe punishment, lashing, imprisonment and several terrors only a young mind can conceive. Instead, he was offered his heart's desire, and by an obviously powerful paladin at that. After too brief a hesitation, he accepted. Two days later, she kissed the aged Barthas (and severla young lads) goodbye, promised to write and to visit whenever he could and set out to what he thought would be a life of glory. He soon learned otherwise. Tallarl was an impatient, strict and unyielding mentor. He had never been a good teacher and a harsh life in the service of the Light had made him all too savvy about how ill trained warriors and especially paladins fell. It was a matter of pride. Parthinia would be the only paladin he had ever trained. He would be damned if he wasn't one of the best. To top it all, by Deran 's age, most squires had already three or more years of instructions behind them. Parthinia had a lot of ground to cover. Tallarl was determined that he would do so, and quickly. The next few years were very hard, for both master and pupil. Tallarl declared several times that he surely must have been tricked by demons in order to have to endure such a squire in his age. And Parthinia discovered that the life of the squire was not one of glory, but one of hardship, endless lessons and tests, and sleepless nights. He spend years effectively being the servant of Tallarl. He was given tasks that were humiliating and degrading. He was asked to stand watch as her master slept and then ordered to practice weapon drills for hours. She was made to run alongside his master's horse in full armor. And always, like a winter rain, there were lectures upon lectures. But finally, all that paid of. Tallarl was not cruel, far from it. He knew that all persons have their breaking point. He knew what tales nested in every girl's heart. And he knew how they could be used to subvert her. Tallarl wanted to make Deran into a man that would be flexible but strong. And year after year, he did. By the time he was 20, Parthinia was a very capable squire, with a cool head for diplomacy and with a will as strong as her sword hand. But the tests were not over. Tallarl was determined to test the weapon he had made. So he took her for his tests the Citadel of the Light itself. There, Parthinia was nothing special. People with more talent, charisma, breeding and wealth were the norm. She got snubbed, looked down, beaten, challenged, humiliated and sneered at. She was a country girl among nobles, a squire among knights. And he was reminded of the fact every day. But still, Parthinia endured. After several humiliations, she learned to counter insults with wit, machinations with diplomacy and challenges with steel. And she learned the most important lesson of them all: It was the way she did things that mattered, not her skill or his lineage. she did not have to prove anything to anyone. His strength was from within, not from outside. At long last, Tallarl could smile underneath his long mustaches. His squire was ready. So it was, that in the age of 23, Parthinia got adopted by Tallarl' family, the Orlovskys, at the same time Parthinia 's training ended . Tallarl had never married and over the years, he had come to consider Parthinia his own child. Parthinia on the other hand, had gone from his early trepidation and anger, to deep respect and love for his mentor, who he came to see as the family he had never met. Alongside Barthas, the kindly priest who had raised him, Tallarl had become the family he had lost. It was thus with great humility and pride that he accepted this last kindness from his mentor. Tallarl was only a minor noble in the family line, owing no more than a small manor in a secluded village in the north, but that did not diminish his status or the magnitude of his gesture. After Parthinia was officially recognized as a Knight of the Just (the small Paladin order that Tallarl belonged to), he spent some months in the Orlovsky holdings. But there was nothing for her to do, but patrol a peaceful region and dodge marriage proposals. It was then that the call for the Stolen Lands came. Tallarl planned to encourage Parthinia to go, but Parthinia needed no encouragement. This is what he was looking for, a place to finally call his own, a place she could pursue the path of the Light in his own way. Three days later, he was on the road, with his master's and Barthas', blessings. Feats Power attack Category:Aasimars Category:Paladins